The worst part—even worse than my performance in the class—was having no answer. Another summer was approaching, and while I’d have normally winced at the thought of shying away from a challenge, especially with so much on the line, a year of failure coupled with a faltering support system at home had demoralized me. It was the lowest I’d ever felt, and it made the choice between respite or months of obsessive self-study easy. I chose respite.
